Lifeline
by bryncurrey
Summary: When she is at her lowest point, he is the one to bring her back up. E/E. Modern AU. High T rating for language and content.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Just a little modern Enjonine short story I've been working on. Enjoy!**

_**When she is at her lowest point, he is the one to bring her back up.**_

_**-**_**Bryn**

**~~0~~**

Eponine Thenardier sat against the side of a building, head leaned against the worn brick. The streetlamp flickered in the midnight darkness, brining no comfort to the girl who so very needed it. Her hair was a mess, tangled beyond belief, and her face was hidden by her hands, as she willed herself not to cry.

_You're stronger than that_, she told herself. _What's the point in crying now? What can crying do to help? _But as she shut her eyes, and clenched her fists, trying her hardest to fight the tears, they came anyway.

Her white shirt and short, dark skirt were caked with mud from the alley where she sat, and her left sleeve was stained red from the long cut on her arm. It was thin, but lord, it hurt. This was not too uncommon of her. Sitting in the alley to hide, and wait until morning came. What was different was the crying. Why the crying?

It had been another one of papa's jobs, a gift for one of his very important friends. He wasn't that different than the rest of the men papa sent her too. Fat. Drunk. Violent. And all threatened they'd do worse than kill her if she told. Papa said the same.

She very gently moved her right hand to her pocket, trying not to disturb the left arm, and reached for the old cell-phone she had gotten from the _amis _for her twenty-first birthday. It wasn't very fancy, but it worked, and that was all she needed. Shakily, she flipped it open and called the first person on her contact list. Marius.

But, of course he didn't pick up. He never did. She quickly hung up before she could leave a message, because what could one do with a message? He probably would delete it anyway.

She closed her phone, gripping it tightly in her left hand, and pushed herself up slowly from the ground. She couldn't stay here, no. The one who had cut her would find her. Or papa. She shuddered at the thought, and stood quicker, but winced as her arm hit the side of the building. Hesitantly, she rolled up the sleeve to find the long cut, but also a pattern of bruises across her forearm which closely resembled finger grips. She rolled the sleeve down again.

Continuing down the alley, she walked with a very slight limp, a consequence from one of her papa's previous jobs, which was healing ever so slowly. She nearly turned the corner before she heard the sound of footsteps echoing on the other side of the corner. She turned as quick as she could, her heart beating rapidly. He had found her. Or maybe it was papa. Oh, how she didn't want it to be papa. He would be ever so angry. And he was terrifying when he was angry.

His voice echoed inside her head.

"_Hideous" _

"_Slut" _

"_Traitor"_

She walked as quickly as she could in her ridiculous heeled shoes, but tripped on a cobblestone, falling right onto her injured arm. She let out a sharp cry of pain.

The sound of footsteps stopped, and she knew she had it coming. She shut her eyes, preparing for the booming shout of her name, or a kick to the gut, but it never came. Instead, came a different voice.

"Eponine?"

She froze, momentarily forgetting about the pain in her arm. No. It couldn't be him. They were never supposed to know about her father's jobs, or the lies of why she couldn't make it to the parties. No, they were never supposed to know.

Her eyes flickered towards Marius' golden haired and blue eyed friend, Enjolras.

She felt his hand on her shoulder and she flinched, turning her head away. "Leave me alone" she snapped, voice rough from the crying.

He frowned. "C'mon, let's get you up."

She protested, but weakly, and he picked her up gently, eyebrows furrowing at the red on her shirt sleeve, and he didn't say anything for a few moments. He then murmured, quietly, "who did this to you?"

She did not reply. Instead, she buried her face into his shirt, and let out short sobs as he walked towards the flickering streetlamp.

**~~0~~**

The memory of how she got to be sitting on his couch, wrapped in a blanket, wearing a pair of his pyjama pants and his university sweater was a bit of a blur. She remembered him putting her in the backseat as he drove through the darkness, not another car in sight. She doesn't remember walking up to the apartment, but she does remember him stitching up her wound in silence as she stared at the wall, unmoving. And now she is curled up in a blanket, staring at a fire, warm.

She doesn't remember the last time she was allowed to be warm by a fire. Maybe when she was younger and when things were happier, but those days were long ago. Mama was better back then, and even papa. But papa was never that much better.

Eponine lifts her head at the sound of him rummaging around in the kitchen, and a stab of embarrassment hits her right in the chest. None of them have ever seen her cry before, not even Marius. Crying into the marble man's chest was never something she considered. Hell, she was still wondering if it was even possible that she had done it, or if it was just another lie from the blur of what had happened earlier.

He walked back into the living room holding her cellphone, a package of cigarettes and a lighter. "This yours?"

Eponine nodded, and took the objects from his hand, and pulled a cigarette out of the package. "This okay?" she asked, and he gave a nod. She placed the cigarette between her lips and pressed on the lighter.

Nothing happened.

She tried again.

Nothing happened.

She let out a sigh. "Fuck. It must've gotten wet. You gotta light?"

"Yeah" he replied, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a very expensive looking lighter. Actually, all the things in his apartment looked quite expensive. She suddenly felt very, very intrusive.

He handed it to her, and she pressed on it, but failed once more. It hadn't been the moisture affecting the last one, no. It had been the shakiness of her hand that lead her to fail in lighting the cigarette.

"Need a hand?"

She found herself startled whenever he spoke, as if he had just appeared into the room. It felt like that alone with him though. He was observant, not talkative. She was thankful for that at the moment. If it had been anybody else they would probably be bombarding her with questions. But he was Enjolras. And he had his own way at dealing with things, she could see.

She gave a quick nod, handing him back the lighter. He leaned forward and lit it in one go, sitting back down opposite her on the couch. She murmured a soft 'thank you' before breathing in, then letting out a breath of smoke.

They were silent.

"It's an expensive habit" she said after a pause, "I wish I could quit."

"Then why don't you?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. I've tried, I just can never seem to stop. It happens when you start young. Wish I had never picked up the first damn packet. What about you?"

"I don't smoke?"

She quirked an eyebrow. "Then _why_ do you have a fancy-ass lighter?"

"Never know when you're going to need something like that, you know? I like to think myself as a prepared person."

"Well, you sure know how to stich up a wound, I'll give you that." She paused. "Thanks. You know, for that."

"It was my pleasure."

Silence.

He looked at her, brows furrowed, arms crossed.

She took another breath, and looked back at him. She let out the breath. His brows furrowed deeper. "What were you doing out there?"

She let out another puff of smoke. "A job" she replied loosely. He didn't buy it.

"What kind of job gives you that?" he said nodding in the direction of her injured arm. She momentarily looked down on it. The swelling had stopped, but the bruising had gotten anything but better. It looked almost worse than it felt.

"It's just something I need to do, okay? I need money. It's just a job. You have a job, and I have a different one. It's simple."

"I wouldn't exactly call it simple"

"I give what they want. They give me money. Simple."

"You can't actually want to be doing this, Eponine. What is it that's making you do this? Is it financial? Because you know we'll all help you out…?"

"I don't need your charity" she snapped, more forcefully than she had intended to.

"Is someone forcing you to do it?"

"No, it's just…" she trailed off.

"It's just what?"

"Forget it."

The silence fell again.

She took two more puffs, before letting out a loud sigh. "You wouldn't understand, okay! You all have everything. School, fancy clothes, apartments, money, stable families and jobs, and I've got shit! I can't do all of the things that people like you and Marius can do. I've got to provide for myself."

"So you sell yourself?"

"Yes!" she exclaimed, "yes! Because what else can I do? And if you have an idea, I'd _really _love to hear it, trust me" she said with a bitter laugh, looking off in the direction of the fire once more.

He let out a sigh. "You could ask one of us. I'm sure Musichetta could get you hooked up with a job at _Musain_…"

She let out a snort. "Like anyone there would ever hire me? And you know what, I could be doing something else as equally as horrible, but I do this because I'm not terrible at it. Hell, I'm actually pretty damn good! Put on some makeup, strap on a pair of heels, and bam! There's your food for the next few days."

He just looked at her, with an almost pitying face. Pitying wouldn't help. She didn't need his pity. She deflated from her earlier anger, into a slight slouch.

"I don't know what to do anymore, you know? Maybe it would be worse if I didn't do the job, considering what I'd have to come home to…but sometimes it feels like it would be worth it just to stop. For the pressure to be gone" she took a long drag of the cigarette, and stared off towards the fire. She needed to forget about all of this, even if it was just for a minute.

"Do you have any booze?"

He nodded.

"Good. Bring out the strong stuff, and two glasses."

She didn't know how much she had drank, but it was definitely enough to make her a bit woozy. Enjolras had brought out some fairly weak rum that she wasn't very fond of, but she didn't really mind at the moment. Her head was in a completely different place.

He hadn't had much. Maybe one shot, and that was because she had forced him to take it. Actually, by the looks of it, he hadn't filled his glass since. She was slightly disappointed that he had to see her in this state, but it was his fault he hadn't drunk as well.

She brought the glass to her mouth again and took a swig, letting out a sigh afterwards. "You really need to buy some stronger stuff. Like, this stuff is designed for fourteen year olds trying to rebel against their parents and shit like that. Where's your big boy stuff?"

"I'm not one to drink liquor often. The feeling of intoxication isn't something I enjoy" he replied.

She rolled her eyes. "Look at you with your fancy words." She filled the glass to the brim, and shoved it towards him, some of it splashing onto her shirt, not that she really minded. "Have it. You're no fun at the moment."

"I'm perfectly fine…" he began, gently pushing her hand away, but she cut him off.

"C'mon. Drink up."

He sent her a stare that wasn't exactly angry, and wasn't exactly annoyed, but somewhat more exasperated. He took the drink and held it in his hands for a few moments before looking her in the eyes.

She nodded her head. "What are you going to do? Stare at it all day?"

He sighed, and brought the glass to his lips. He downed the shot in one go, and cringed slightly afterwards. Eponine smirked.

"What?" he snapped.

"You're so innocent" she said, shaking her head. "You're so pure. Mr. I'm-going-to-save-the-world-with-my-pretty-hair-and-ridiculous-speeches."

He frowned slightly at the nickname. "And your point is? So what if I don't care for alcohol?"

She let out a chuckle. "I mean, how did you spend your early university years? Locked up in this apartment studying?"

He didn't seem to understand the sarcasm. "Mostly, yes."

Eponine rolled her eyes. "That is not what most people do, you are aware, right? Most people spend their first year getting loaded and signing up for way to many eight o'clock classes."

"I guess that would be true."

"Have you ever even been drunk before?" she asked, suddenly curious.

He grimaced. "Yes. A few times. I wouldn't exactly call it an ideal experience. It takes you out of your mind…away from who you are…" He looked up at Eponine.

She took a sip of her drink. "Exactly."

They were quiet for a few moments, as Eponine drained her glass. She was starting to feel the effects now. She felt relaxed, and a little fuzzy, but that was okay. She drank too much, she knew. But it was better than the alternative.

She looked across the couch at the golden haired and blue eyed fellow in front of her. She tilted her head. The girls around town called him "The Marble Man". Beautiful, artistic, but completely unbreakable. He was kind of statue-like when she thought about it. He was guarded, she could see, much like herself. But he was much better at it. He could easily put on a façade. A charming smile and a rousing speech. But here, well, here he was different. He was so unlike the Enjolras she had though she had known before.

She didn't really know what to make of it.

"You're not a virgin, are you?"

His eyes widened. "Pardon?"

She repeated the question with ease. "Are you a virgin?"

He seemed slightly frazzled at the question. "I don't see why this is a necessary question."

Eponine smirked at his unease. "I mean, you don't drink, you don't party. It seems almost natural that you wouldn't be that caught up with sex and lust. Nothing that would…ah, what did you say earlier? _Take you out of your mind_?"

He looked at her, brows furrowed and lips parted. "You aren't the one to sugar coat things, I see."

"What?" she said, placing her glass down on the coffee table. "Does it make you uncomfortable?"

He swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing. She cocked an eyebrow. "Does it?" she pushed.

He cleared his throat. "I am by no means uncomfortable…"

She moved closer towards him on the couch. He stopped talking. "What are you doing?"

She didn't really know what she was doing, to be completely honest. But she felt a sudden urge to prove a point. What she wanted to prove, she did not know.

Her body was draped over his, and her right hand grasped his shoulder. The other one was planted on the couch beside him, holding up her body. He looked like a deer caught in headlights. Completely entranced, and completely terrified.

"What are you doing?" he repeated.

"Does this make you uncomfortable?" she breathed. His eyes were wide, and he opened his mouth as if to say something, but no words came out. She leaned forward and covered his mouth with hers. He quickly pushed her away, and bolted upright. "What are you…?" But he had pushed her into a position where she straddled his hips, and had quite the upper hand. She pulled him back to her, twisting her good arm into his shirt.

He was unresponsive for a few moments, and for a moment she thought he would not respond at all. She was about to pull away before she felt a hand move down her back hesitantly. He seemed unsure, so Eponine moved in closer to him, as if to give him permission.

God, even in this he was still a gentleman.

She brought her hand up to his hair, and weaved her fingers throughout his curls, pulling him closer. He started to kiss back with much more fervor, and Eponine felt herself falling far away from proving a point and much closer into what was happening in the moment.

She had only meant to make him a little tense. She hadn't meant for it to get like this. But, god, she wasn't going to stop now.

His hands grasped at her hips, and both of her hands were knotted into his golden locks, as she fought to get closer and closer to him. She wanted to feel, and she wanted to be felt.

She heard as his breath turned uneven as she parted his lips with her tongue. One of his hands moved to grip her inner thigh, and she let a quiet sigh pass between their lips. Her fingers pulled hard at his hair, that she thought she must be hurting him, but he didn't say anything. Nothing at all.

She rocked her hips into his and he let out a soft groan, filling the otherwise silent room. She kissed at his neck, before opening her eyes to see his eyes open wide. "No" he said, voice slightly raspy. "Eponine, stop"

She moved from his neck to look down at him. "What's wrong?"

His fair skin was flushed, and his shirt was ruffled. He didn't look as though he had wanted to stop, and he certainly hadn't sounded like he had wanted to.

"You're not…you're not thinking properly…you've had far too much to drink…"

Her lips hovered above his as she spoke, "I think I can be the judge of that." She kissed him again, and he let her for a few moments, and she thought he was going to give him, but there was no luck. He gently pushed her away and shook his head.

"No. You're hurt and you're trying to distract yourself, pretend I'm Marius, maybe…"

Something snapped inside her when he mentioned Marius. She pushed herself off of him, back onto the other side of the couch. "Don't you think you know anything about me or what I'm thinking, alright!" she snapped. "You are nothing like me, and you don't know how I fucking feel!" She stood up from the door, and marched towards his door.

He sighed, exasperated. "Where are you going?"

She pulled on her heels. "Maybe I'll go home. Maybe I'll go to Montparnasse's. I don't know!" she angrily snarled.

His brows furrowed, and he sat upright on the couch. "Eponine, he'll kill you!"

She didn't know if he was talking about 'Parnasse or her father. Maybe he didn't know either.

"Not your fucking problem is it? Thank you very much for saving my useless life. I hope you feel gallant." She was almost yelling now.

He rushed towards her as she opened the door to leave. "C'mon, Eponine. Don't go back there, you're not safe. Just stay here…or at R's…you know there's a place for you."

She ripped her arm from his grasp. "Goodnight, Enjolras!"

"Eponine…!"

She slammed the door behind him and walked quickly out of the apartment building. Her heart was beating quickly, in time with her heels hitting the floor.

She was so confused. So, so confused? What had just happened? What was this whole night? Why had she blown up? And of all people, why at him?

She wanted to go back. To apologize. To do something. Because he didn't deserve all this. He didn't deserve to be burdened with all of her problems, and he had just been trying to help, and he had even patched up her wound…

But she didn't turn back. She walked down the lonesome street, with not a person in sight, and cried for the second time that night.

**~~0~~**

**Hope you all enjoyed this first chapter. **

**Please let me know in the reviews if you would like to see more, as I would love to hear from you. **

**This'll probably be a short story. Only about three or four chapters about this length. **

**Thanks for reading :)**

**-Bryn**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hi all! Thanks for the positive reviews on my first chapter! **

**I've been thinking about it, and I think I may make this into a longer story. Please let me know in the reviews how you would feel about that. Thanks!**

**Also, I would like you to know that after this update there will be a little bit of a break as I am going to try and write quite a lot of chapters in that time so I can post them a little more regularly after. Hope that's okay with you**

**Anyways, on with the story!**

**-Bryn**

**~~0~~**

She climbed through the window of Gavroche's room as quick and quietly as she could, trying her hardest not to wake the twelve year old boy asleep on the mattress on the floor. He had surely been an accident, her parents hadn't wanted one kid, let alone two. She was glad he had been born, though. He was the one ray of sunshine in her life.

He woke quickly, though. The boy was a light sleeper, just like herself. They had good reasons, though. Living with the Thenardier's, you never knew when you would have to wake up quickly. Whether it was the police, or it was their own father after too much to drink, you had to be alert.

His bright blue eyes opened, his hands clutched at the thin blanket covering him from the cool of the night. Their dingy home had no heating, and even in the summer, it was quite cold.

They looked nothing like, actually. He had light blonde hair that fell down just to his shoulders, and the bluest eyes imaginable. He was growing fast, though. At twelve, he was almost taller than her. Eponine, however, had both of her parent's features. Dark brown hair, chocolate brown eyes and a taste for strong alcohol. She was fairly certain Gavroche was the mistake of some affair, and she was fairly certain that her father knew that as well. Eponine knew that was why her father despised him most of all.

And even though she and her mother had an anything but loving relationship, they agreed on the fact that they had to make sure that papa didn't hurt him. Not as much as he had hurt Eponine. He hadn't done anything too horrible to the younger boy, yet, but Eponine knew the day would come.

"Ep?" Gavroche whispered quietly. "What are you doing here?"

Eponine felt a stab of guilt as he asked the question. She was never there. He probably spent most of his time locked up in this bare room with nothing but the sketchbook Eponine had bought him for his tenth birthday. It was selfish, she knew, leaving him here while she spent most of her time away. But it wasn't like she could take him with her.

Eponine climbed in, and set her feet carefully on the ground. She closed the window slowly, as not to create any noise to wake their parents.

"I came back to see you" she whispered, sitting at the foot of his mattress.

"You haven't been back in almost a week" Gavroche said, his blue eyes blinking sleepily. "I thought, maybe, you wouldn't come back this time."

Eponine smiled a sad smile. "I'll always come back" she said, leaning against the cool, bare wall. "Don't you worry about me, ok? Have papa and mama been good?" she asked.

Gavroche nodded once. "It's been pretty quiet around here lately. Papa's been spending a hell of a'lotta time in the streets. Beggin'. Stealin'. The usual."

"Mama?"

Gavroche shrugged. "She's been sulky. The usual."

"Has she been feeding you?"

"Enough that I'm okay."

Eponine nodded. She always had to ask the important questions first. She leaned forward and opened her bag, pulling out something wrapped in newspaper. She had bought it with the leftover change from groceries. "Here," she said, holding out towards him. "I got you something."

Gavroche took it eagerly, and unwrapped the thinly wrapped gift. Inside was an army man action figure from one of the comic books Gavroche loved so desperately. Not that they could afford any, but he read them like a madman at the library. A grin spread across his face instantly. "Captain Walker" he said. He looked up at her. "Thanks, Ep."

She pulled out a package of trail mix, and a bottled water to put in the box in the closet. It was a safety box. For in case mama had one of her fits and refused to cook, and he needed something to eat.

The mattress sunk as she rested on the small mattress beside him. "Aren't you going to go back out?" Gavroche asked.

Eponine shook her head. "No" she said. "No, I'm going to stay tonight. I'll give mama the groceries in the morning. I'll probably head off sometime after that. But no, I think I'm going to stay tonight."

"Ok" Gavroche said, and rolled over to give her room. "I think I'm going to try and sleep now."

"Alright. Goodnight, buddy" she said.

"Goodnight, Ep."

She wasn't how sure she lay awake staring at the paint chipped ceiling, but it was long enough that Gavroche was deeply sleeping when she started to drift off herself. She woulddeal with everything in the morning. Deal with mama, and deal with the food, and make sure her little brother was okay. She would do it all in the morning.

And slowly, after such an agonizing night, she fell asleep.

**~~0~~**

Gavroche was still asleep when she woke up. It must've been eight, or eight thirty, but it was earlier than mama usually was up. That's why she was a bit surprised when she heard moving in the other room. She got up from the mattress, and pulled her hair into a loose ponytail, before realizing that she was still wearing the clothes that Enjolras had lent her, and he still had her phone.

She cursed under her breath, so not to wake Gavroche.

She padded quietly into the kitchen-slash-living room-slash-office-slash-criminal party room to see her mother sprawled across the couch in an ill-fitting dress and much too heavy makeup. Her eyes moved from the newspaper in front of her, too look at Eponine.

"Oh," she said, her eyes dead. "It's you."

Eponine placed the grocery bag on the counter. "I got some bread and milk and beans. I think it'll last you the week."

Her mother didn't say anything in return, but turned back to her newspaper. She coughed as she drew in a breath of her cigarette.

She placed half of her making on the kitchen table. "And here's your weeks share. Do with it what you will. Maybe get Gav a haircut. Or do something nice."

Her mother made a grunting noise, as if to say okay, but they both knew exactly where the money would go to. It would go into their mother's pocket, and buy a weeks' worth of wine that she would drain in one night.

She changed out of Enjolras' clothes into a pair of worn out jeans, a large sweater and a pair of boots she had owned since she was about fifteen. She needed to give them back, and she needed to get her goddamned phone. She thought about where he would most likely be at nine o'clock in the morning.

Most likely, he would be at the café with the rest of the _amis _drinking far too much coffee and talking far too much about patriotism or whatever the hell they always went on about.

However much she didn't want to go, and didn't want to have to confront him about anything that had happened the night before, at all, she needed that phone and she needed to see the rest of the _amis. _They got worried if they didn't see her after a few days.

She walked back into the living room, and to their door. "I'm going out" she said, not looking her mother in the face. "Be good to Gav."

Her mother's voice was raspy. "I'll try."

**~~0~~**

They didn't live far from downtown, or at least, the hip downtown that the café was located. It was about a twenty minute walk from her part of town into the hub of the downtown area. She had always enjoyed downtown. The busy streets and the crowds of people were far better than the lonely places she would spend at during days at end of jobs from her father. And she enjoyed seeing her friends, too. They were all very different then her. Rich, educated and employed. But they were good to her. And she was good to them. So it worked.

She was looking forward to seeing R, as well. He was the best of them all in her opinion, but most would say otherwise. They didn't like how he was outspoken, and they didn't like the way he drank. But Eponine enjoyed the man much more than the other _amis_. He was the only one who really seemed to understand her.

Eponine pushed open the door of the café, and a wind chime greeted her, a tinkle dancing through the air. It smelled strongly of coffee bean, and was warmer than the cool autumn air that tickled the back of her neck. She saw Musichetta behind the counter having a chat with Joly, and the rest of the _amis _were located in the right corner of the small shop. Marius and Courf sat at the head of the table, while the rest of the group seemed immersed in what they were saying. As Eponine neared, she almost groaned. It was always about politics.

Politics. What a bore.

Combeferre was the first to greet her. "Hey, 'Ponine!" he said, smiling widely. He beckoned at the empty chair in between him and Marius. "Come and have a seat!"

She smiled politely at him. "Sure," she replied. Her eyes then caught a sprawl of gold across the room in front of the restrooms. Enjolras sat alone at a table immersed in one of his many novels. It was her chance to give him back his clothes without too many questions, so she took it.

"Sure," she said, "just let me use the washroom first."

Combeferre nodded twice, distracted by whatever the two beside him were talking about.

Eponine walked across the café, and placed the plastic bags with the clothes on the table in front of him. "Here" she said, awkwardly. He looked up from his novel at the bag, then at her.

"Thanks," he replied, then reached to pull something from his pocket. Her phone. He held it out for her to take. She took it quickly, unsure of what to say next. She looked over her shoulder and peered at the _amis _who all seemed to be laughing at some sort of funny joke Courf had said.

"You should come and sit with the rest of us" she said, "I mean, you're sort of awkward all alone here by yourself."

He looked back down at his book. "Maybe" he said, then shrugged. "I don't know. Marius and I are in somewhat of a…disagreement, at the moment."

She raised an eyebrow. "What did he do this time?"

Enjolras let out a quiet chuckle. "He was being himself, mostly. Idiotic and self-centred."

Eponine's lip curled up in a small smile. "Well, if you change your mind, there's always a seat with R and I."

He said thank you, and went back to his book, as she walked over to R, who sat at the opposite end of the table, across from Courf and Marius. He wore his signature grey beanie and black and green flannel jacket. He grinned as Eponine neared.

"How's my dazzling girl doing today?" he asked, as she pulled up a chair to sit beside him.

"Well, my brother's not dead. So that's good."

R was the only one, well, besides Enjolras now, that actually really knew anything about her home life. He was a good person to talk to as well, because he didn't try to make it better, he just listened.

"That is good. How' Gav doing anyway?" he offered Eponine a sip of his coffee. She took it before replying.

"Good" she said, "I mean, I think he's doing well. Better than usual, at least. He's looking a little better fed. Mom's been making him stuff, at least."

"I miss the munchkin" he said, "You should bring him around again."

Eponine shrugged. "Maybe. He's got school, though he doesn't make it most days."

Musichetta cut off their conversation, as she yelled across the room at Courf. "Hey, Bedhead!" she called, "Come get your damn coffee. It's been sitting here for five minutes, and I'm not going to make you a new one once it gets cold and you whine."

Courf rolled his eyes, but stood up to go get the coffee and everyone at the table chuckled. Eponine enjoyed the warm, fuzzy, kind feeling this café and her friends brought and wished that she could have it all the time. She leaned her head onto R's shoulder. He patted it.

They listened to Marius and Courf argue colourfully at a new bill that had been passed, and Eponine still felt her heart leap slightly anytime Marius would look in her direction. She hated herself for this. Because, she knew she couldn't have him. She had accepted it a long time ago. But a part of herself still wanted to be with him so badly. She wanted him to be the one to make everything alright, but it seemed that it would never be the case. And Cosette was a nice girl, and she knew they were happy together.

It somehow made it better. But it somehow made it worse.

But she'd had far more worse things to deal with lately than Marius's pretty face, including the blonde statue across the room, with his face stuck in a book.

She was still quite unsure of where they stood. Their conversation had been civil, but she still felt like he wanted to say something else. Something more. And she still wanted to apologize about her ridiculous behavior, but she didn't know how. They needed to talk, but she didn't know how they were going to do it.

And she still couldn't get over the fact of how much she had enjoyed kissing him. She was convinced it had been the alcohol and desperation, but…but no but. No but.

She shook the thought out of her head, and turned to look at Marius as he spoke.

"Tomorrow night is good for everyone?" he asked.

"Pardon?" Eponine asked. "I missed that."

"Tomorrow night at _Rouge et Noir_? We're all going out for drinks. Are you in?"

Eponine nodded. "I'm in."

R nudged her. "I can pick you up at eight near the Gas n' Go?" he asked, referring to the run-down gas station across the street from her house.

"Thanks" she said, casting him a small smile.

"Hey, Blondie!" R shouted across the room, and Enjolras looked up at him with a scowl. "Do you need a ride tomorrow?"

"I do own my own car, I'll have you know…"

Grantaire waved him off. "I'll need you to drive my car home, anyways" he said, and Enjolras mumbled in hesitant agreement. It was true. Enjolras was their designated driver, and Grantaire was their designated drunk. He would need someone to drive him home.

Grantaire looked back at her. "You need a ride home? I sort of want to see Gav, anyway."

"Sure" she replied, and pulled her bag over her shoulder.

They said goodbye to the rest of the group, and headed outside to R's 1996 Corolla. She was grateful for his friendship. And his transportation, to be honest, but was also glad at how much he bonded with Gavroche. The little guy needed as many friends as he could get.

She could only hope that her mother would be in a good mood, or as good as she could get, when R was over.

She could only hope that her father wasn't there at all.

**~~0~~**

**Sorry that this chapter is a bit short, but I promise that the next ones will be longer. I just wanted to give you a little bit more before I go on a writing binge. **

**Anyways, I know there wasn't a lot of Enjolras/ Eponine interaction in this chapter, but I PROMISE you that there will be more next chapter and the chapter after that. **

**Again, please review and tell me If you would like this story to be a little longer than I anticipated :) **

**Thanks for reading!**

**-Bryn**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey everybody! Thanks so much for waiting patiently over these last few days. I have decided to make my story longer, so I have been desperately writing chapters for the last few days so I can always have one to post. I'm thinking about posting maybe two chapters a week, starting now! **

**Thank you again for all your support in the reviews!**

**-Bryn**

**~~0~~**

"_She needs to be put to use" Monsieur Thenardier said to his wife, across the dimly lit room. "She's almost of age—looks older than she is, mind you. That lil' scar 'bove the eye does some good. I told you it would." _

_Madame Thenardier sighed, gripping a half-full bottle of vodka in one hand, a cigarette hanging between her fingers on the other. "What exactly do you mean by being 'put to use'? You wanna sell her? You want her to steal?" _

"_She's a pretty lil' thing. She'd make some money." _

_Madame Thenardier placed the vodka bottle on the counter, and readjusted her fake eyelash. "Well, do whatever you want. We need whatever we can get_

Eponine remembered that conversation years ago between her parents. They hadn't known she was listening through the wall from her and Gavroche's office-made-bedroom. It was one of the last times her parents had talked civil to the other. One of the last times she remembered seeing her father sober. He hadn't been home in a few days, Gavroche had said, which was a good thing. Things were better for everyone—her mother, Gavroche and herself when their father wasn't there.

That's why, when she saw the large black van in front of their shack of a home, she felt her stomach drop half a mile.

She stopped Grantaire as he reached to open the door of his car. "No," she said quietly. "No, don't come inside."

For a moment, he looked mildly confused, but saw the large van and realization dawned on his face. "We have to get Gav out" he said simply, reaching again for the door handle. Eponine blocked him once more.

"R, _no_!" she said forcefully. "Not if he's there. Not if any of them are there. They will hurt you. Make assumptions. They don't want anything that'll distract me from my job. You don't know how they are, and what they'll do to you."

He shook his head. "No! We're getting Gav together. Now, c'mon" He removed her hand from his wrist. "Is there any way we can get in without being seen?"

"R…"

"Is there any way we can get in without being seen?" he repeated, cutting her off.

Hesitantly, Eponine nodded her head. It seemed like he wasn't going to have any of it, and he had made up his mind. And when Grantaire made up his mind, there was no hope of changing it. "There's a window," she said, climbing out of the car and quietly shutting the door. "A window to Gav's room. He usually leaves it unlocked for when I come home. We can sneak around the back and see if it's opened."

Grantaire nodded, leaving his car unlocked in case they needed a quick escape. She beckoned him to quietly follow her against the side of the house. It was untastefully paint-chipped, and mold was starting to appear against the moist, drowned-out concrete blocks surrounding the exterior. It looked awful, and smelled even worse.

As they neared the back of the small, rundown home, they heard a yelling voice. Eponine recognized it immediately as her mothers. It was unnaturally raspy from the uncountable packages of cigarettes she had bought in her lifetime. If her mother, the usually stone-cold, quiet figure she had come to know, was yelling, something had to be wrong.

"Come on," she nudged Grantaire. "Something's up. We need to find Gav."

They came across his window, and Eponine reached up to find if it was locked or unlocked. Luckily, it was the latter. Her heart was racing. If her father had done anything to hurt Gavroche…

"Boost me up," she said. She grabbed the windowsill with her fingertips, and he helped hoist her up by her waist. She quietly climbed in, trying her hardest to climb as silently as possible.

"Ep?"

Eponine spun around to see his head poking through the closet doors. Her heart leaped in relief, as the young boy looked unhurt. He looked awfully scared though. She beckoned him towards her.

"Now, open the doors as quietly as you can," she whispered. Gavroche complied, and stepped towards her on tiptoes, looking anxiously over his shoulder.

"We're going out the back," she said, placing a hand on his shoulder and leading him to the window, where Grantaire waited outside. "You're going to climb through the window, and slide down, okay? R will be there to catch you." Gavroche nodded quickly, and pulled himself up through the window. She heard the thump on the other side, and stiffened, hoping desperately that her father did not hear that.

She climbed out herself and landed feet first on the ground beside Grantaire.

It had been too easy to get Gavroche out. He must've been going for their mother this time.

"Come on!" Grantaire hissed, both him and Gavroche already moving towards the car. Eponine hesitated, looking back at the house.

Her mother was still shouting, and now so was her father. However much she and her mother disagreed, and however cold they were to each other, she didn't want him to hurt her. She didn't want him to hurt anybody.

"Eponine!" Grantaire hissed.

But she couldn't go back in now, no. Gavroche needed to be taken to safety. And Gavroche always came first. She and her mother had agreed on it. So, she turned away from the house, and rushed towards the car to keep up with Grantaire and Gavroche, who were already climbing back into the car.

She pulled open the passenger's seat, looking back to make sure Gavroche had gotten in okay. "Put on your seatbelt, Gav" she commanded, her voice slightly shaky. He did so without complaint. Grantaire started the engine, looking back towards the house twice, as if to make sure Monsieur Thenardier did not come out to see them, and left the street, driving in the opposite direction.

Everyone was quiet for a few moments. "Gav, what happened?" Eponine asked.

"Papa came back" he replied simply.

"Yes, I am aware of that. Did he hurt you? Did he hurt mama?" She looked in the rear-view mirror to see Gavroche shake his head.

"No. Well…no. Mama shoved me in the closet before he could come in the door. She seemed okay…with all that yelling, and stuff…"

"What were they yelling about?"

Gavroche hesitated. "Something…something about you. And me. He was saying something about you and me."

"What did he say, Gav?" she pushed.

He shook his head multiple times. "I…I don't know! It was so loud, and so quick, I didn't get all of it…"

Eponine stopped pushing, and tried to calm him down. "It's okay. It's okay. I'm not mad at you. Just tell me what you remember, okay? You can do that, right?"

Gavroche let out one, long shaky breath, and nodded. "Yes" he said. "They were talking about money, as usual. And then papa said something about mama not telling him when you gave her some money. And then he got real angry and loud, and so did mama. She said something about how she deserved the money. And then… then he said something about takin' me away…"

Eponine stiffened. "What?"

"…to hurt mama. He wanted to do it to hurt mama. Mama said you wouldn't let him take me, even if she let him. And then…" the boy trailed off, and stopped talking.

"Gav, please tell me what he said!"

"I don't wanna, Ep…"

"Gav. Please. I need to know what he said."

The boy didn't reply for a few moments, but when he did, his voice was thick. "He said he'd kill you, Ep. You don't think he meant it, do you?"

Eponine didn't reply for a few moments. Kill her, huh? No. She didn't think her father would kill her. He wouldn't want the blood on his hands. But hurt her? Torture her? She had no doubt he would go that far.

So this was what he wanted. To take Gavroche. To beat him, and turn him into his own little thief. To break his innocence, and to hurt everyone else who cared about the poor child. He was a monster. And Eponine was not going to let him get his way.

"I'll be okay, Gav. And so will you. We're not going to stay at home anymore, alright? We'll stay with…"

"Courf" Grantaire interrupted, speaking for the first time since they had left the Thenardier household. "Courfeyrac will take him happily. You know how much he loves Gav, and they have the extra space."

He was right. Courfeyrac was the best to Gav, and it was all genuine. He had always wanted a little brother, he had once told Eponine, and Gavroche could be his honorary one.

"You'll stay with Courf, alright?" she told Gav.

Gav nodded once.

She turned to Grantaire. He looked straight out the window, hands grasped firmly on the wheel. "Thank you" Eponine whispered, so Gavroche couldn't hear.

He nodded once, eyes glued on the road ahead.

She wondered what he was thinking.

**~~0~~**

They had dropped Gavroche off at Courfeyrac, who had thankfully taken him with open arms. He was going to skip out on their night at _Rouge et Noir _to watch a movie with the kid. Eponine was grateful, but felt guilty he had to miss out. Though, she was always glad someone would be there to watch out for Gav if anything ever happened to her.

Wordlessly, they had driven back to Grantaire's apartment. He had brought out a bottle of wine, but no glasses. They never really used glasses when they drank. Unsanitary, maybe. But with best friends, it wasn't really necessary.

Grantaire took a long drink from the bottle. He let out a sigh, and looked her straight on. "Well, shit."

She didn't say anything, but reached out to take the bottle. He handed it to her.

"So what do you think you're going to do?" he asked, leaning back on the couch, and kicking up his feet so the lay under hers.

She shook her head a few times, and looked up at the ceiling. She took a long drink. "You know," she began, "if he hadn't been here. If mom had just left him…I think we might've been okay. He was the one who fucked everybody over. The one who ruined all ur goddamned lives."

He listened.

"He was the one who got us into the smuggling and thieving business. He was the one who hurt mom, and turned her into the cold-hearted bitch she is today. He's the one who's made Gavroche so scared to say something wrong, that he doesn't say anything at all! It's all his fault, R, and now he wants to take away the one good thing I have left."

He looked at her, brows furrowed, and mouth slightly frowned. It was not an upset look, or a pitying look, but a look of a friend who knew what you were talking about, even if you had no idea what was going on yourself. "Were going to make sure Gav's okay, Eponine" he said, "He won't get his hands on him."

Eponine nodded twice, before taking another sip. She handed the bottle back to Grantaire, and he took it with enthusiasm. "You've got a whole whack of us here, 'Ponine" he said mid-sip. "We'll take care of you."

"You're the only one that knows, R. I don't want the others to know."

"Why not?" he asked.

She didn't reply for a few moments. That was a lie. He wasn't the only one that knew. There was the other one. Enjolras. The one that knew even more. He knew about everything. Her father's abuse, her little brother, and the way she sold herself. He knew more about her than her best friend did.

"No one else understands me, R" she finally replied. "I'll tell them in my own time."

"You're going to have to get it done one day or another" he said, voice gentle. "I mean, why not just get it over and done with."

She wrapped her arms around her legs, resting her chin on her knees. She stared at his walls covered in all of his unfinished paintings. "I don't know" she breathed quietly, "I'm not ready yet. Maybe I'll be one day. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe in thirty years. I'll tell them sometime, don't worry. Just not now."

He nodded, reluctantly letting her get away with the lies she told the rest of their friends. They sat in comfortable silence, only moving to pass and receive the wine bottle. As he took a sip, she looked up at him.

"Thank you" she said, "I know I've already said it, but thank you."

He cocked an eyebrow, bottle still in his mouth.

"For helping me with Gavroche. It's good to know that so many people are here for him." She stopped, a small smile appearing on her face. "I think it helps keep me sane."

He waved her off, placing the bottle of wine on his crate, or as he called it, a "coffee table." "It was no problem" he said. "Gav's important to you. He's important to me. It was never really an option for me not to help him, in my mind."

"I know…" she said, "but thanks. I mean it."

He cast her a small smile, before furrowing his brows. "Aw, shit."

"What's wrong?" she asked, tilting her head.

"No, nothing, it's just I forgot I have to pick up Blondie for tonight. I said I'd be there at seven thirty. It's seven o'clock now. Are you up to going? Because I can totally bail tonight if you're not into…"

Eponine shook her head. "No, no. Let's go." She paused. "I think it would be good just to get out tonight, after everything that's happened…I can be sulky in the morning."

Grantaire jumped up from the couch. "Alright. Well, be prepared for Mr. Marble to be grumpy. He hates my car."

"Then why do you always offer to give him rides?"

Grantaire flashed her a grin. "Because, then I always have a designated driver, so I can drink unhealthy amounts of vodka."

She rolled her eyes as he threw her one of his large flannel jackets to wear over her thin coat and jeans. She took it happily.

Before they left through the door, though, he stopped her. "Are you sure you're okay with going tonight? Positive?"

"Yes, I'm fine" she said, exasperated. "I'll be absolutely fine."

**~~0~~**

**Well, there you have it. Chapter three! I know I said there would be more Enjolras/Eponine interaction in this chapter, but since I've lengthened this story, I couldn't fit it into this chapter. However, there will be quite a lot in the next chapter, and perhaps the one after that. **

**Anyways, I know that this chapter was shorter than usual, but this seemed like the most logical place to end it.**

**Please tell me what you think in the reviews? Should Eponine confront her father about Gavroche? Should she try and find out what is going on between her father and her mother? And what about Enjolras? What do you guys want to see happen between the both of them? Also, would you ever like a chapter out of Enjolras' POV? Let me know all of this in the reviews. **

**Thanks! **

**-Bryn**


	4. Chapter 4

**Hi! Hope you all enjoyed the last chapter! Anyways, today will be the **_**Rouge et Noir **_**outing, and as I promised, there will be more Enjolras/ Eponine interactions in this chapter. **

**(I also want to clear up that Thenardier doesn't really want to kill Eponine. He meant it figuratively as in he would do anything to get Gavroche. The way I imagine Thenardier, is he would give very many death threats, but wouldn't follow through with them. He would hurt her though. Sorry if that confused you!) **

**Hope you all enjoy!**

**~~0~~**

They pulled up to Enjolras' apartment about twelve and a half minutes later, and Grantaire refused to get out of the car to go and knock on his door. Instead, he phoned.

"I don't see why you can't just get out of the car" Eponine mumbled, as Grantaire held the phone to his ear, waiting for a reply. She wasn't awfully excited about spending a twenty minute car ride with just Enjolras and Grantaire. Grantaire, being the awfully blunt person he was, would probably know something was up. And he would probably question them about it. And he would probably somehow find out. He always did.

"I'm saving my feet for dancing" Grantaire promised, though Eponine knew he'd, truthfully, probably just be sitting on a barstool the entire night. Maybe after a few too many drinks he'd get up and dance. That was Eponine's queue to get him home.

The phone rang a few times, before Enjolras picked up. She couldn't quite hear what he was saying but he did, indeed, sound grumpy and stoic. Not like that was out of the ordinary, though.

"We're outside. Parked in front of the…" Grantaire looked out the car window at a large red-leafed maple tree, "…weird oversized red dish-cloth tree." He paused for a moment as Enjolras talked on the other side of the line. "Yes, I know exactly what a maple tree is" Grantaire snapped. More silence as Enjolras talked. "Oh" he said, "Well, whatever. You know that's what I meant. Now come on. Let's go."

He hung up the phone, and looked at Eponine, who was staring at him in quiet distaste. "What?" he questioned.

"Dish-cloth tree? Did you seriously just call it a dish-cloth tree?"

Grantaire shrugged, and leaned back in his chair, folding his arms behind his head. "Do you think Cosette will be there tonight? She didn't come with Marius last time."

Eponine frowned. Cosette. Marius' wonderful, beautiful, well-off fiancée, Cosette. She didn't hate the girl, no…and that was part of the problem. She was so bizarrely nice. So grateful and humble. She was beautiful without flaunting it. And she was quiet and soft-spoken. She wished she could've hated Cosette. It would make everything so much easier. But she found herself usually agreeing what the blonde girl had to say, and nodding along whenever they shared a conversation.

She just hated that she had Marius. The boy Eponine had pinned over for so long. She had told herself ages ago that she was over him, and she was…or at least she thought she was. There were times, still, when Marius talked to her, or when Marius acknowledged her, that she just felt like melting. But she knew it wouldn't be. That it couldn't be. That it would never be. And even though she had accepted that, she still felt the longing and the desire for the freckled boy she had known for oh-so long.

"I don't know" Eponine said, "She probably has work. Or maybe not. I don't know." She also worked with street-kids and volunteered at youth centres. Another perfect quality to add to her list of perfect qualities.

"Pontmercy is different when she's around" Grantaire said, popping a stick of gum into his mouth. "His annoying-ness and stupidity is heightened whenever she's around. It's always so lovey-dovey. It makes me want to gag."

Eponine grinned slightly at his exaggeration. It was true, though. He and Cosette definitely weren't the type to downplay their relationship in any sort of way.

A tap suddenly sounded on the window beside Grantaire. He turned around, and rolled down his window. Standing outside was a scowling Enjolras dressed in a red jumper and black slacks. He looked professional, yet comfortable. Eponine wished she had enough money to purchase as nice of clothes.

And she couldn't help but noticing how nice he looked…

She shook the thought from her mind. No. She shouldn't have kissed him. Look what it had done to her. Imagining and fantasizing about the Marble Man? No. She shouldn't have kissed him.

"Yes?" Grantaire asked simply.

"Would you possibly be able to unlock your car doors? You seem to forget every single time, and it's quite a hassle to keep knocking on your window."

"Well, what if I'm robbed while waiting for you? And all because I unlocked the doors? How would you feel about my income loss and probable death?"

Enjolras furrowed his brows, unamused. "Well, it certainly would lessen my chances of having to wait outside in the rain."

Grantaire rolled his eyes, and unlocked the car doors, and Enjolras climbed into the empty passenger seat. The other backseat, beside Eponine, was piled with art supplies, CD's, numerous amounts of stained flannels and beanies, and empty coffee cups. It was truly a mess.

The moment Enjolras closed the door, Grantaire pulled out from beside the car, and drove off in the direction of the downtown area. Enjolras' hair was slightly damp from the light rain that fell in the evening sky, but his curls were slowly drying. His brows were pulled together in their usual half-brooding, half-pissed off expression, and he folded his arms over his chest. "You're going over the speed limit" he said, his eyes shifting to look at Grantaire. Grantaire did not look back at him.

"I know" he replied evenly.

"They make limits for reasons, R…"

"I know" he repeated.

"I mean, you could hurt someone…"

"I know"

"…Someone else could get hurt…"

Eponine slowly drowned out their banter as she stared out the window, looking at the building that slowly grew higher and higher with each block they passed. _Rouge et Noir _was located in the smack-middle of downtown, and was very well known by most citizens. Cosette's father, owned the expensive chain clubs along with a partner, so the group usually got special discounts. The one time she had met Cosette's father, she remembered thinking he looked the most opposite of a club owner that she could imagine. Cosette had told her he did the financial stuff—the math and the accounting of it all. He was soft-spoken, and kind, much like Cosette herself. Even though she was adopted, she still seemed to have picked up some of his traits.

Eponine was glad she hadn't picked up most of her parents traits—biological or not. Except for the whole smoking thing. Ahh, how she wished she had the willpower to stop. She didn't want to end up like her mother, dependant and needy for things such as meaningless as cigarettes and alcohol. She had to be a better role model for Gavroche.

"You are idiotic and nonsensical" she heard Enjolras say, as she was drawn back to the boys conversation by a loud huff of annoyance from Grantaire.

"Well, unlike you, I'd much rather be idiotic and nonsensical than detached and flat" Grantaire snapped back, turning onto another street. They were getting closer.

"Whoa, what's this?" Eponine cut in, stopping Enjolras mid-comeback.

"Grantaire can't seem to realize that gas use is a great danger to our environment, and we should be conserving it as much as possible. Do you want to live in a barren, industrial wasteland? Do you?"

"Holy shi…" Eponine started, rolling her eyes, but Grantaire cut her off.

"I don't _need _to do anything. If I could afford a better, more efficient car, do you think I would get one? Hell yes, I would! But I'm sorry that I am not a perfect law student who has mommy and daddy pay for all my schooling, housing and whatever green-power vehicle you have acquired at the moment!"

There was no way she would ever be able to get them to stop this useless bantering.

Enjolras started to yell something about public transit, and that was when she stopped trying altogether. Even though they fought mercilessly, and she didn't think she had ever heard them have a pleasant conversation, she knew that they did care for each other. Enough. Or as well as either of them could care about someone else.

"Buses, R! There are things invented called buses!"

They pulled up a block away from _Rouge et Noir _just as Grantaire finished his rant about the overpriced public transit rates. Of course, the moment they got out of the car, they finished arguing. Eponine had seen this trend between them, as they usually were all carpool buddies. Their arguments, well, their worst ones, usually took place inside of a car, but they would resolve it the moment they stepped out of the vehicle.

Men. She didn't understand them.

"Do you know who all is coming?" Grantaire asked Enjolras, as the light rain sprinkled upon them. Eponine could see the club-slash-bar at the end of the street.

"Combeferre, Joly, Jehan, Feuilly, Bahorel, Bossuet, Marius and Cosette" he replied. "I think Courf's working."

Eponine agreed much too quickly. "Yes. Working."

Enjolras shrugged. "Musichetta isn't coming, though. Probably would be to awkward for her with both Bossuet and Joly."

Eponine nodded in agreement.

"I don't understand love" Grantaire added in, "I mean, what's the point of all of the trouble?"

Eponine hesitated before replying, "Me neither, R. But that doesn't make it a bad thing."

**~~0~~**

"You made it!" Marius exclaimed as they walked into the club, Cosette sat on the stool to his right, with Combeferre to her right.

Marius stood from his stool and walked over to them, shaking both Grantaire and Enjolras' hands, and then gave her a big hug. He was an overly affectionate man, that one. "Come," Marius said, beckoning them towards the counter. "Come and have some drinks. They've got some sort of special on for gin and tonic, I think…" he trailed off as he sat back down in the seat. As they neared the bar, Eponine saw the other part of the group at the far side of the room. They seemed to be eating some finger food.

There were three remaining seats to the left of Marius, which Grantaire, Enjolras and she took. Grantaire sat at the one left of Marius, Enjolras on the left of him, and Eponine herself beside him. She found herself, yet again, at the end of the table. How these things seemed to always happen to her.

Both Enjolras and Grantaire ordered their drinks, Enjolras' being some sort of sparkling water, or something fancy like that, of course. She was about to pass, due to her empty pockets. She had spent all of her spare change on Gavroche's action figure. But without asking, Enjolras ordered her a coke and rum. She was going to argue about not needing his charity and pity, but really, she just needed a drink.

"Thanks" she said, as the bartender walked off to make Grantaire's drink. "You didn't need to do that, though." She took a sip.

"Don't think anything of it" he said, and took a sip of his drink. "It's a gift. R would have gotten you one if I hadn't." She didn't argue with that. R would have probably bought her one anyway. It would've been rude to refuse one from him, but take one from R.

"He's not as bad as you think, you know?" she said, holding the glass in both of her hands. He raised an eyebrow. "R" she clarified. "He's a good guy." Enjolras made a face, and took a drink from his glass. Couldn't those two ever complement each other?

"Anyways," Enjolras seemed desperate to steer the conversation away from Grantaire and his 'goodness'. "What's with your hands?"

Eponine furrowed her eyebrows. "Pardon?"

Enjolras moved his hair out of his face. "Your hands. What happened to them?"

Eponine let go of her drink with one hand, to look down at her hand. Indeed, something was wrong with them. Her left hand, the one she was looking at, was covered in little scratches. She changed hands. Her right one was also covered, though, not as bad.

She must've gotten them while trying to get Gavroche out. Their window sill was in bad shape, and she must've scratched them on an open nail or scraggily wood pieces. She looked back up at Enjolras. "I don't know" she replied.

"They weren't like that at the café, or last night…" he cut himself off, and looked at his drink with sudden interest.

Ah, he just had to go and bring up the previous night. How deliciously awkward.

It didn't seem like he was saying anything, and knowing him, he would probably never bring it up again if he could have his way. So, Eponine took a breath, and prepared to clear the air.

"Look," she said. "I'm sorry. About all that. I was overemotional and hurt, and admittedly, slightly tipsy. I lashed out at the first person I could find. I'm sorry that it was you. And I'm sorry if I've freaked you out."

He looked back from the glass, to her. He blinked twice before answering. "No…" he said, "No, it's okay. You had your reasons. You don't need to apologize."

She shrugged. "I _did _sort of verbally abuse you a tiny bit." The kiss hadn't really been brought it up, and she really didn't have any sort of excuse for her behavior on that part, so she didn't really know how to continue.

They were both silent for a few moments. "How did you get those cuts?" Enjolras asked quietly.

Eponine looked down at her hands again, and then back at him. What could she tell him that he would believe?

"A cat" she blurted out, suddenly.

"A cat?" he replied skeptically, one eyebrow raised.

She nodded. "Yes. The neighbourhood cat. My brother is sort of in love with it…he was petting it, and then I pet it and it scratched me."

He still looked awfully skeptical. "But this neighbourhood cat didn't scratch your brother?"

"It likes him?" He wasn't buying it. He leaned back into the backrest of the stool, eyeing her carefully. She knew he didn't believe anything that she was saying. Hell, she wouldn't have believed it if someone had said it to her. She just prayed that he wouldn't question her any further.

But, he was Enjolras, and boy, did he always have questions. Some of the others, including Marius, Cosette and Grantaire all got up to head to the dance floor. Combeferre still sat at the bar, but was having a deep conversation with Joly, who seemed to be very caught up in what he had to say.

She looked over her shoulder at the retreating figures of Marius, Cosette and Grantaire, who had left her practically all alone with Enjolras. She didn't really have an escape blanket now, unless…

"Let's dance" she blurted, taking his hand and standing up from her chair. He blanched at the suggestion.

"I don't dance" he said seriously.

"Neither do I" she replied.

She dragged him across the club to where the other three had gone, desperate to have someone other than him near. Since Grantaire had already found some ditzy blonde, and Cosette and Marius were very obviously involved in the other, she decided to strike up a conversation with Enjolras, to take his mind of the things from before.

"So, when you say you can't dance, do you mean you physically cannot dance or you just don't want to" she said, releasing her hand from his, and leaning against the wall opposite of the DJ.

"A little bit of both" Enjolras replied, shoving his hands in his pockets. "I don't understand the point of dancing, you see. You could use the times for much more important things."

She rolled her eyes. "This is why you're no fun," she walked onto the dance floor. "Follow me."

He shook his head furiously. "Nope. No way."

"Come on!" she pushed. "Live a little."

He looked over his shoulder, as if to check and see that nobody he knew was watching, and reluctantly made his way closer to her. "I don't know what to do" he said in an almost whispered voice.

She raised an eyebrow. "Just move to the beat. But don't be awkward."

He looked exasperated. "I don't dance, Eponine."

"Look, this isn't fucking ballroom lessons. I'm not asking you to put one hand on my waist and lead me in a three beat rhythm. I'm saying do whatever the hell you want. Have a little fun. Aren't you always the one fighting for the freedom of others? Well, how about you have some freedom of your own!"

He looked at her pointedly. "That would've been a nice speech if you had left out most of the unnecessary language."

"You're a prick" she said, and led him into the crowd of the dance floor. She couldn't see any of her other friends, but knew they were somewhere in this mess. "Come on. I'm going to teach you how to not be an antisocial weirdo and pick up all the girls."

Enjolras made a face.

"Now, first things first, don't button up a button up the entire way. It makes you look too business-y and not fun enough. You want to be fun, don't you?"

"Not really" he replied, but Eponine kept talking over him.

She unbuttoned his top two buttons, and reached forward to ruffle his golden hair. "Your hair doesn't have to be perfect. It shows you've been out and done things during the day, even if you just stayed home and read historical fiction novels all day long. Like you."

He pushed away her hands as she tried to play with his hair. "Stop fondling me" he protested.

"Stop being such a stiff and almighty jackass."

"Real mature."

He started to say something else, when she saw someone across the room, and her heart dropped. No, not here.

She didn't know the man, well, no. But she knew him far much closer than some people did. He was one of the men her father had assigned her to "work" for. These things weren't supposed to mix. Her home life and her life with her friends and her work life were all very different things. The thought of him recognizing her made her want to be ill. Enjolras seemed to notice the change in her expression, and stopped talking. "Eponine?" he snapped her out of her trance. "Everything alright?"

She still hadn't taken her eyes off the man. "Can we leave?"

He seemed confused, but didn't question her. He followed her eyes to the large, dark-haired man, and seemed to put two and two together. "Yeah," he said quietly, "yeah. I'll give you a lift home."

Home, as Enjolras and everyone except Grantaire, knew for Eponine, was a small apartment building close to the outskirts of downtown. Of course, she had never had a place in the apartment, just asked people to drop her off there. She didn't want any of them to actually see her real home. "Thanks" she replied quietly, and followed him towards the club entrance. Nobody really seemed to notice them leaving; she was sure Enjolras would come back after dropping her off. He had to make sure Grantaire got home alright.

In silence, they walked back towards Grantaire's car, and Eponine handed Enjolras the spare keys Grantaire had given her. They started to drive back to "her place" in silence. The light rain hit the window shield in sprawling, dotted patterns, which soon fell together into a flat puddle. It was mesmerizing.

"Was he one of them?" Enjolras asked hesitantly, breaking the silence.

Eponine did not reply. But after what felt like minutes, she nodded.

After that, the silence was not as stiff. It was comfortable. And accepted.

"You seem to be the one saving me a lot, lately" she said quietly, staring out the rain-stained windows.

He didn't say anything in return, but out of the corner of her eye, she saw his lips move.

She wondered what he'd wanted to say.

She wish he had said something.

**~~0~~**

**Hope you enjoyed this chapter!**

**Since I'm quite busy with school, and I'm in a play which I have six preformances a week as well as guitar, piano, bass, trumpet, violin and singing lessons, I may only have one chapter out next week. I'll try my best to get two, though! **

**Please tell me what you think in the comments! Comments help give me the energy to write!**

**See you all in the next chapter!**

**-Bryn**


	5. Chapter 5

**Hi all! Sorry about the wait, I've just had a lot of family troubles the past year, so I decided just to take a few weeks off to spend the holidays with the people who I still feel good around. **

**This chapter is a little bit different. It's going to be Enjolras' take on the story so far, so please bear with me if it is shorter than usual. Please let me know in the reviews if you enjoy this and want me to do more out of Enjolras' POV!**

**-Bryn**

**~~0~~**

He hadn't been doing anything in particular that night that had required a lot of deep thought or intense conversation. He had been out with Marius and the boys. Marius had given him the invitation to their wedding that everybody else had already seemed to have. Sort of as if Marius was deciding whether he wanted him at his wedding or not. It didn't offend Enjolras much. He knew he and the freckled boy had their differences.

They had drunk, though the others more than him, and had quite a swell time if Enjolras could admit it. Marius had gotten a few calls through the night, all which he had ignored. He hadn't even checked the contact calling him.

Enjolras had left before most of them, as he needed to get home because he had to study for exams coming up after the winter break. He enjoyed his winter break, however studious and school-crazed he seemed to be. He enjoyed having time to sit at home and read a book, or work on posts for his justice blog. He enjoyed writing short stories, and reading newspapers with a coffee in hand beside him. He enjoyed the freedom of being able to wake and sleep whenever he could.

But, truth be told, he enjoyed his schoolwork more. The emphasis and teaching of Political Sciences interested him far more than an article in the local paper could interest him, and even though it was only a few days into break, he found himself not really knowing what to do with his time. One could only read, write and drink coffee for so long. So he had decided to spend more time with his friends. He knew them, but he didn't really _know _them, and he knew if he wanted to be a good politician someday, he needed a network and group of people to support him and claim his vote.

But he was also a bit lonely.

He left Marius' place that night, and had realized that he needed to stop at the closest bookshop to pick up a textbook for the next semester. And the closest bookshop at the time had been in a rougher part of town. So he parked his car, bought his book from a quite suspicious till man who seemed to be under some sort of influence at the time, and walked back to his car.

He hadn't expected to find her there.

He had heard the crying as he took a shortcut through one of the alleys, and had very strongly hoped that he wasn't about to find someone being raped or horribly murdered. He had turned the corner, ready to do something because he couldn't just leave someone there, when it was her.

Enjolras hadn't known it was her at first, but recognized a tattoo on the back of her ankle and the long dark hair and knew that he knew exactly who was crying on the rained-out street in front of him. Eponine Thenardier.

He had never seen her like that. Eponine had always been very guarded, sarcastic or to be honest, a little bit bitchy, but he had never seen her vulnerable. She was a mess. He didn't know what had happened, but he had suspected, the way she was dressed, that it hadn't been something that she would've liked a lot of people to know about.

So he helped her. And she cried into his shirt. And he was so very confused because they never had really talked much before this. She had poked fun at the ways he was so conserved. How he didn't like drinking or partying. But that was about it.

She had been a shaky mess in the car, all curled up, with her head resting against the window, eyes closed. He carried her up to his apartment, because she seemed to lost in her thoughts to fathom the movement of a walk.

He had taken off her wet clothes, and changed her into a pair of his old pyjamas, careful not to do anything that may have been considered indecent. He threw a blanket over her shoulders, and she had curled up in the corner of the couch, staring at the fire he had lit.

And he hadn't meant to be prying when he had looked on her phone. He wanted to see if he could find any hints on why she was so hurt. It was then when he saw the unanswered phone calls to Marius. And that was when he got angry at the stupid, freckled boy, who couldn't care enough about anyone else to even answer his stupid phone.

He walked back into his living room, and she seemed to be much more aware, and was sitting up straight. He gave her the packet of cigarettes he had found in her pocket, and her cellphone, and lit the cigarette for her. They talked about thanks, and they talked about her job, and they talked about booze and then she made him drink booze. Which he was not very used to, as a man who prided himself on his usual sobriety.

But then she started talking about sexuality and lust and things that he _definitely _was not expecting, and he had gotten a bit confused at what exactly was going on. And then she was on top of him, her hair still slightly damp and her cheeks slightly flushed and he had felt trapped but also very intrigued. Then she kissed him, and he was kissing her, and they were touching, and then,_ god, _she did that thing with her hips…

And then he was snapped back into the realization that he could not let this happen because she was drunk and hurt and she would most certainly regret everything morning after. But then he had to go and mention Marius, which, he would admit, was a dick move. She freaked out. She left.

And he was so confused.

So. Utterly. Confused.

**~~0~~**

He had forgotten to get his clothes back. Or rather, he hadn't had any time to get his clothes back because she had sort of ran off. So when she gave him back his clothes the day after at the café, he was immensely grateful. She was grateful for her phone.

They hadn't talked of the night before, no, because what could either of them say?

**~~0~~**

Her hands had been so scratched. And she wasn't telling him what had happened, which frustrated him oh-so greatly. But then she had asked him to dance, and he found it oddly charming to be around her. She was much better conversation than the rest of their group, and he found her much more intriguing.

But then she started unbuttoning his top, and thought she might try and kiss him again, but in the middle of the dance floor and he knew that would not be a good idea. But then he realized she was just trying to make him look better, and felt sort of foolish for thinking she would try and kiss him again.

But then he saw that flash in her eyes. A little bit, the tiniest bit, the smallest piece of what he had seen that night, in her eyes. And he followed her eyes to some man, put two and two together, and got her out of there.

He had asked her if he was one of her clients. She had hesitantly answered with a nod.

"You seem to be the one saving me a lot, lately" she had said quietly.

He almost found himself replying with a, "I'd save you any day."

But he didn't.

And she didn't say anything else.

**~~0~~**

**I realize this was shorter, but that was just because I wanted to do a little update over the holidays. I promise I'll get on with the story in our next update, and add a little bit of plot. **

**Please let me know what you think in the reviews. It means the world! **

**-Bryn**


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